The other day I stopped to think.
"There really are two realities."
Inside there's lightning, synapses firing, a conscious me only aware because I read about it somewhere. Of what I am aware, well, most of that is a guess--those brain cells making some kind of sense--linking arms in some crazy evolutionary chain that keeps a me I hardly even know going.
Outside there's lightning too, a complex world of which I'm only partly aware, some arms linked and some aimed and here I am, this tiny sliver of consciousness plunked down right in the middle of two vast landscapes. Inside and out.
The other day I stopped to wonder.
"What is real?"
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